


kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night

by burninghoneyatdusk



Series: Darling, Let's Hurt Tonight [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Kid Fic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29365863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burninghoneyatdusk/pseuds/burninghoneyatdusk
Summary: Bellamy and Clarke have sex for the first time since their daughter was born, and face some bumps along the way.A sequel to 'Darling, Let's Hurt Tonight'
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: Darling, Let's Hurt Tonight [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157126
Comments: 12
Kudos: 153
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JenT](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenT/gifts).



> This fic is a sequel to my fic [Darling, Let's Hurt Tonight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25385266), but can be read on its own. 
> 
> This fic was prompted via t100 Fic for Black Lives Matter Initiative, where myself and other writers and creators are accepting prompts in exchange for donations to organizations that support the BLM cause. You can learn more about it via our [carrd](https://t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co/).
> 
> Fic title from the song 'Paper Rings' by Taylor Swift.

Clarke closes her eyes, letting her forehead drop against the shower wall as the hot water pours down on her. She made the mistake of leaving the bathroom door open, and she can hear their daughter screaming even with the shower running. Clarke knows Bellamy is probably pacing around their room with Morgan in his arms, trying his best to calm her, but they’ve known for months that they have a colicky baby. Most of the time, she’s simply inconsolable.

Ever the optimist, Bellamy always tells Clarke that their daughter takes after her mother, and that she’s only screaming to warn the world to get ready for her. Clarke doesn’t share his optimism, which is why her husband has been a lifesaver since Morgan was born four months ago. Not that he wasn’t before, but Clarke can’t deny that he’s truly a natural with their daughter. Case in point, by the time Clarke steps out of the shower, the crying has quieted.

Clarke combs her hair and brushes her teeth before applying deodorant and throwing on one of Bellamy’s old t-shirts with a pair of cotton underwear. She doesn’t have the energy for the more elaborate nightly skincare routine she used to practice. Before walking into their bedroom, she leans against the doorway of their ensuite bathroom, heart melting at the sight in front of her. Bellamy is laying on their bed, their daughter sleeping soundly on his bare chest. His curls are wild, overdue for a cut, and he’s wearing his black square-framed glasses. Behind the lenses, dark circles shadow his eyes just as they do her own. Her stomach swoops at the sight of him - sometimes when she looks at him, she feels like she’s still a twenty year old with a pathetic crush on her history professor. 

“Hey,” he mouths, unwilling to break the silence in the room. Clarke smiles softly, despite her exhaustion.

“Hey,” she mouths back, walking over to them. As gently as she can manage, she lays down next to them, simply watching her daughter sleep for a few minutes. Clarke has been mesmerized by her since the day she was born. 

“You should sleep while she does,” Bellamy murmurs. 

“So should you,” Clarke whispers back, running a hand through Bellamy’s curls. Clarke is already fairly certain that their daughter inherited his curls, even if her hair is a shade lighter than Bellamy’s. She also has his dark eyes, the same ones that Clarke could stare at for hours. 

“We both know if I move, neither of us will be sleeping.”

Clarke nods, smiling knowingly. He’s certainly right, but she feels a little badly that she’s the one going to sleep when he’s the one who’s home with Morgan all day - he should get a break at night. Still, Bellamy points out that he can nap when she does during the day, whereas Clarke has to spend all day at the office. It’s also not like she gets a full nights’ sleep as it is, given the amount of times in the night that Morgan wakes them. 

As carefully as she can manage, Clarke crawls under their blankets while Bellamy remains on top of them on his side of the bed. It doesn’t take more than a few minutes for Clarke to drift off. 

\--∞--

Crying pierces through Clarke’s dreams. Blinking her groggy eyes, she opens them to their dark bedroom, realizing they must be hours away from dawn. Bellamy groans beside her, but when Clarke pushes the blanket off to get up, Bellamy moves faster.

“I’ve got her,” he grumbles, voice thick with sleep. Clarke sits up against her pillows while Bellamy picks up Morgan from where she’s crying in the bassinet next to their bed. Already aware of what she needs, Clarke pulls Bellamy’s old t-shirt over her head before he hands her their daughter.

Despite the colic, Clarke can admit that her daughter is pretty easy when it comes to feeding. She immediately latches onto Clarke’s nipple, quieting as she eats. Bellamy lays back down beside Clarke, dropping his face to her shoulder and pressing a lazy kiss to it.

“When does this get easier?” Clarke whispers.

“I hear in about two more years.”

Clarke chuckles, turning and pressing a kiss to the crown of Bellamy’s head. 

The two of them joke a lot about how tired they are, although it isn’t really much of a joke at all. Still, Clarke is happier than she’s ever been and she knows that Bellamy feels the same. Even when she’s in her worst moods and feels like she’s on the verge of losing her mind, there’s still such an affection she feels for her small family that makes it all worth it. If Bellamy is by her side, she knows that she can handle anything. 

When Morgan finishes, Bellamy spends a few minutes burping her before putting her back into her bassinet. As he does, Clarke quickly throws his t-shirt back on before Bellamy climbs back into bed. Before Morgan, Clarke and Bellamy spent countless nights sleeping naked, but Clarke hasn’t been able to push away her insecurities as easily as she wishes she could. She knows she should be easier on herself, given that she only gave birth four months ago, but she’s striven for perfection her entire life and this feels no different. The fact that she’s not even close to her pre-pregnancy weight has her sulking more often than not.

Bellamy pulls her into his arms, spooning her and snaking his arms around her waist under his shirt. He would never say a word about her weight, but Clarke can’t help but feel nervous when his hands splay over her bare skin. She knows he can feel the ways her body has changed, and wonders if he thinks anything of it. 

Rationally, Clarke knows the reason they haven’t had sex yet since Morgan’s birth is largely because she hasn’t initiated it. Rationally, she knows Bellamy is waiting for her to give the go-ahead, given that her doctor cleared her nearly two months ago and Clarke has never been shy about asking for what she wants. But insecurities taint rationale. In the same way she couldn’t help but cry when she couldn’t fit into her favorite pencil skirt on her first day back in the office last month, she can’t help but worry about whether her husband still wants her as much as he used to.

Clarke misses sex for a lot of reasons. But mainly, she misses the moments of intimacy with Bellamy. Yet, no matter how much she misses it, her nerves always find a way to poke holes in her desire. 

\--∞--

Sunday morning, Clarke is pouring a cup of coffee while Bellamy sorts through the paper at their kitchen island. Morgan is sleeping, so they’re enjoying a rare moment of peace. As Clarke gets the almond milk from the fridge, her phone buzzes on the counter next to Bellamy. 

“Who’s that?” she asks him, pouring a splash of milk into her coffee.

Bellamy picks up her phone. “Your mom...” he answers, trailing off. 

Clarke glances at him as she puts the milk away, noting that he’s still staring at the phone, his brow furrowed.

“Why is your mom sending you articles about how to lose baby weight?” he asks, setting her phone back down. 

Clarke sips her coffee, walking over to him and leaning against the island. “Probably because I need them,” Clarke shrugs, hiding her face as she takes another sip.

“Hey.” Clarke looks up at him over her mug. “That’s bullshit. Your doctor said you’re perfectly healthy, you don’t need to worry about that. You just had Morgan months ago.”

Clarke shrugs. “I guess.”

Bellamy stands, setting down his own mug before walking around the island and wrapping his arms around her from behind. Clarke sets her mug down and leans back, sinking into his touch.

“I didn’t know you were feeling this way,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re beautiful, and incredible, baby. You don’t need to worry about that stuff.”

“I know I shouldn’t care...technically. I just - I don’t know. It’s easier said than done.”

“I know,” Bellamy agrees, burying his face in the crook of her neck for a moment. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with us not having sex yet, would it?”

“...Maybe.”

Bellamy turns her, easily lifting her onto the counter and stepping into the space between her legs. He looks at her for a beat, stroking up and down the outsides of her bare thighs. 

“I’m sorry,” he starts. “I just assumed you didn’t want to yet. But I should have asked.”

Clarke sighs. “I guess I should have said something, but I didn’t really know how to ask if you’re still attracted to me without it feeling like just...I don’t know - asking for a compliment.”

Bellamy raises his brow, clearly shocked. “You think I’m not  _ attracted  _ to you?”

Clarke shrugs again. “I don’t know.”

Bellamy leans even closer to her, sending a chill up her spine. “That could not be further from the truth. You still drive me wild, baby. Every day. When I’m getting myself off in the shower, I’m thinking about how much I want to devour you. I’m thinking about that pretty much every minute of the day, exhaustion be damned.”

Clarke’s face burns as she looks down at her hands. It’s rare that she feels this shy in front of Bellamy, and she hates it. “Thinking about how I was then, or how I am now?”

Bellamy surges forward to briefly capture her lips with his own. “Thinking about you then,” he says, before kissing her again. “Thinking about you pregnant,” he continues, kissing her once more. “And  _ especially _ , thinking about you now,” he growls, fingers digging into her thighs as he kisses her once more. 

Clarke giggles, feeling a familiar warmth pool in her lower abdomen as she pulls Bellamy in for another kiss, this time allowing his tongue to break through her lips and find her own. Whimpering, she pulls Bellamy even closer, her body now flush with his and her center pressed against his stomach. 

“Fuck, baby,” he curses, nuzzling her jaw once she pulls away. His hands trail up her bare sides under her sleep shirt, drawing a gasp from her as his lips move down her neck.

Clarke can’t deny the desire coursing through her, washing away her insecurities. She knows it isn’t that simple, that they didn’t disappear, but it feels impossible to hold onto them when Bellamy’s touching her like  _ this _ .

“Bell,” she whispers. 

Bellamy pulls away to look her in the eye and Clarke bites down on her lip when she notices how dark his own eyes are. She opens her mouth, but the words die on her tongue when their small apartment fills with wailing.

“Fuck,” Bellamy groans, head dropping to Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke can’t help but chuckle, running a hand through his curls. God, she can’t imagine a day when she won’t be appreciative of her husband’s hair.

“I’ll get her,” Clarke tells him, hopping off the counter once Bellamy steps aside. “Get in the shower, babe,” she tells him over her shoulder. “My parents are coming over for lunch in a few hours, remember?”

Clarke chuckles when she hears Bellamy groan as she walks into their bedroom. 

“Hi, my sweet girl,” Clarke coos as she picks up Morgan, rocking her gently in her arms. It does little to calm her red-faced daughter. Clarke takes a deep breath, regretting that she didn’t take more than a few sips of her coffee. 

Clarke paces their bedroom as she hears the shower turn on. She wishes she could join Bellamy like she used to. It wasn’t even about sex, but the simple intimacy of moments like that together. She feels them slipping from her and after their moment in the kitchen, she decides that she doesn’t want to waste any more time, insecurities be damned. 

\--∞--

“Oh my god,” Clarke groans, burying her face in Bellamy’s chest as soon as she closes the door to their apartment. Bellamy chuckles, holding her close and rubbing her back.

Clarke loves her parents - really, she does. It’s just that they’re...well, they’re  _ a lot _ , and Clarke doesn’t have the energy for  _ a lot _ these days. She doesn’t have the energy to brush off comments and critiques about how Bellamy and her are parenting, or about the state of their apartment, or about the sweater Clarke is wearing - a sweater she put on because it’s loose-fitting. After her conversation with Bellamy, she’s doing her best not to let her mom’s comments about her weight get to her.

“I miss being able to have wine while dealing with them,” Clarke mumbles, face still buried in his chest. 

“Could be worse,” Bellamy chuckles. “Could be the year we started dating.”

Clarke pulls away from him to offer a teasing glare. “Low bar.”

They can joke about it now, but Bellamy certainly isn’t wrong. When her parents found out that Clarke was in a relationship with the man who used to be her history professor, they fought about it for an entire year. It was nearly a miracle when he actually got their blessing to propose a year after that. No matter that it was begrudgingly - the fact they said yes at all was a big deal. Over the years, her parents had slowly come to accept that Bellamy is a good man - a good man who treats her like a queen. But with Morgan, it only opened a new topic to offer criticism on, and Clarke is going to have to get used to it.

Clarke hugs Bellamy again, cheek pressed against his chest. “Have I mentioned lately how lucky I am?”

It’s true. In addition to Morgan, Bellamy took all her parents’ comments in stride while also keeping Clarke calm. How he manages, she’ll never understand. 

“Never hurts to hear it again,” he teases.

Rather than answer, Clarke leans up to kiss him. Bellamy’s hands move from her waist to cup her face as he deepens the kiss, and the butterflies that made a home in Clarke’s stomach the first day she saw Bellamy flutter wildly. 

“So...about our conversation this morning,” Clarke murmurs, once they pull apart for air. “Maybe tonight…”

Bellamy’s smile widens, making him look youthful despite the circles under his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah - like maybe...now,” Clarke continues, raising her brow at him. 

Bellamy chuckles, lifting her into his arms. “Now sounds perfect,” he nearly growls. 

Clarke giggles, but Bellamy places a hand over her mouth as he walks them into their bedroom, a reminder that their baby is  _ finally _ sleeping. Even though his hand is over her mouth for a very good reason, Clarke can’t help but feel a shiver when he does it. Bellamy’s eyes darken, and she knows he’s noticed. He lays her gently on the bed, which probably has more to do with not making any noise than being gentle with  _ her _ . As he climbs over her, Clarke’s legs part for him on instinct, cradling his hips. 

“Fuck,” he whispers in her ear as he grinds against her, lips trailing down her neck. 

Clarke’s hold on his hair tightens. Her whole body is burning, despite that they’re both still fully clothed. Her hand runs up Bellamy’s back under his shirt, loving the feeling of his warm skin under her finger tips, as Bellamy sucks on her pulse point. It draws a groan from her, before she can stop it. Bellamy doesn’t notice, but Morgan must. In the next second, a quiet whimper from her bassinet morphs into full blown cries. 

“Fuck,” Clarke sighs, as Bellamy rolls onto his back beside her. His chest is already heaving, his pants tented, as he tugs at his hair in frustration. With a groan, Bellamy walks over to Morgan and picks her up. 

“You’re not allowed to date until college for this,” he tells her, drawing a laugh from Clarke. 

\--∞--

Clarke and Bellamy don’t have sex Sunday night, both too exhausted by the time Morgan calms down. Then Clarke is back at work on Monday, and Morgan gets an ear infection Tuesday, and Clarke has an article deadline on Friday, and well...it’s really a miracle they make through the week at all. The topic isn’t forgotten though, especially not when Clarke wakes to her husband wrapped around her on Saturday morning. She hums contentedly, pressing back even closer to him. The sun is in the sky, and Morgan isn’t awake - another small miracle.

“Hey, Bell,” she mumbles, eyes still closed.

Bellamy grunts in response, tightening his hold around her waist. 

“Remember when we were going to have sex?”

Clarke feels the rumble of Bellamy’s laugh against her back and can’t help but laugh with him. A moment later, Bellamy turns Clarke onto her back. When she opens her eyes, she finds Bellamy looking down at her with warm eyes, the soft morning light making him glow. 

“Morgan is finally feeling better,” he starts, running a hand up her waist. “How about we make a nice dinner tonight, light some candles, slip Morgan a xanax…make a night out of it.”

Clarke barks a laugh, swatting at Bellamy. “You’re not funny.”

“I was only joking about the last bit,” he laughs. 

Clarke picks up the hand that’s still trailing up and down her side and interlaces their fingers, running her thumb over the back of his hand. “That sounds perfect.”

“Great - now let’s go back to sleep while we still can,” he whispers, laying back down beside her and closing his eyes. Clarke doesn’t have a chance to close her eyes again. She’s still watching the easy rise and fall of his chest when their daughter begins crying. 

Clarke can’t help but laugh as she throws the blanket off her. “I’ve got her.”

“I’ll start the coffee,” Bellamy grumbles.

\--∞--

The evening is going according to plan, at first. They do their best to keep Morgan awake for the afternoon. Clarke nurses her as Bellamy cooks dinner, and she even manages to stay awake while they eat, content to lie on her blanket on the floor and look up at her mobile while Clarke and Bellamy eat on the floor next to her. Once she’s asleep, Clarke picks her up to put her down while Bellamy puts their dishes away. He even lights a few candles in their bedroom like he said he would. Then, as best laid plans often do, theirs fall by the wayside. 

Bellamy is kissing down Clarke’s neck when she wakes, Morgan’s screams echoing through the baby monitor on the bedside table. They had moved her bassinet to the living room in hopes that they wouldn’t disturb her but Clarke is quickly realizing that might be an impossible feat. Bellamy groans in frustration and Clarke can’t say she feels any less disappointed. 

“I guess we’ll have sex when she goes to college,” Clarke sighs.

“Not if we send her to boarding school first,” Bellamy grumbles as he gets up. 

“Stop it,” Clarke laughs, throwing a pillow at him as he walks out of the room.

As if she had intentional plans to ruin her parents’ night, Morgan is inconsolable for hours. By the time they finally put her down, Clarke is nursing a headache and wants nothing more than to hit the lights and go to sleep. From the looks of it, Bellamy doesn’t feel any differently. Clarke thinks they manage about four hours before she wakes again, this time needing to be fed. As Clarke watches Morgan in the dim light of their room as she nurses her, she feels a little guilty for her frustration. Their little girl is perfect, Clarke thinks, as Morgan looks up at her with dark, trusting eyes.

“I’m sorry tonight was a bust,” Bellamy whispers, laying on his side beside her. 

“Me too, but...I don’t know. How can we be disappointed in anything when we have her?” Clarke says quietly, eyes still on Morgan.

“You’re right,” Bellamy murmurs, his finger lightly brushing across Morgan’s head. “She’s perfect.”

Bellamy takes Morgan from Clarke when she’s finished and Clarke watches him as he holds her, gaze tender as he puts her back in her bassinet. His eyes remain on their daughter for a few minutes before he turns to Clarke again.

“She’s already sleeping again,” he whispers, smiling. “That’s got to be a record.”

Clarke smiles, gaze following him as he gets into bed beside her again.

“Bell?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not really tired right now...are you?”

Bellamy smirks, immediately shifting closer to her. “You want to? Right now?”

Clarke glances at their sleeping daughter before her eyes shift back to him. “I think we’re going to have to start taking advantage of the moments as they come,” she tells him. “And I miss you.”

Bellamy leans into kiss her, deep and unhurried, despite that they certainly don’t have all the time in the world.

“I’ve missed you too,” he murmurs, lips brushing against hers. He doesn’t pull away, only shifts so that he’s on top of her again. “If you make a noise,” he whispers into her ear, breath hot on her neck, “we’re going to have problems.”

Joking or not, Bellamy’s tone pulls at something in Clarke, making her skin flush and her center throb. She knows Bellamy notices when she feels the curve of his smile against her neck a second later, his hand trailing up her inner thigh to part her legs wider. Her breath catches when he drags his thumb across her clit over her underwear at the same time that his lips trail down her neck and across her shoulder. 

“Please,” she whimpers. A desperation she hasn’t felt in months swells inside her. 

Bellamy surges forward, lips on hers, hands moving up the outside of her thighs with a new urgency as he settles between her legs. 

“What’d I tell you about being quiet?” he murmurs, giving her a biting kiss before he allows her to answer. “You going to be a good girl for me tonight?”

Clarke whimpers, nodding as she tugs on his t-shirt. This was always the part of their dynamic that thrilled Clarke, the part that always provided her with exactly what she needed. She was a type A perfectionist in life, unafraid of being an ambitious boss at work or in any other area of her life. But in their bedroom, Bellamy took the lead. He took control, and in doing that, gave her the release she needed. Bellamy was her safety net, the place she could fall into without thinking. The place where she could simply feel, and surrender. 

While Bellamy pulls his own shirt over his head, Clarke’s hands move to the hem of her own tshirt before hesitating. It’s not that Bellamy hasn’t seen her topless since she gave birth, but this feels so much different than simply changing or nursing Morgan in front of him. Her nerves about her weight gain slither under her skin, but she doesn’t have time to dwell on it. Bellamy, almost reverently, removes her hands from the hem of her shirt and helps her pull it over her head, tossing it aside before his dark gaze sweeps over her body. 

“You’re so perfect, baby,” he murmurs, eyes hungry. 

Her heart races as Bellamy leans down to press a kiss to her collarbone, to her chest, to the hollow between her breasts. He’s gentle when his lips reach her breast, already aware of how sensitive they are. Clarke can feel him pressed against her center through his boxers, his hips rolling against her as his lips move on to her other breast. It draws a gasp from her and Bellamy shifts lower down her body, biting the soft skin below her ribs in retaliation. Wetness pools between her legs as she threads her fingers in his hair. His nose grazes her center, teasing her without giving her the pressure she needs. When she tries to grind against him, his fingers dig into her thighs to hold her in place.

Bellamy hooks his index fingers under the band of her underwear, pulling them down her legs and off of her. He hovers over her again, finally pressing his lips against hers again, his tongue sweeping across her bottom lip until she opens for him. Clarke hooks her legs around his waist as they make out, each kiss more intense than the last. Bellamy rolls his hips against her as they kiss until they’re both panting.

“Need you inside me,” she breathes, pulling him in for another kiss before he can even answer. 

Bellamy must feel as desperate as she does, because he pulls away in the next second, kicking off his boxers and opening their bedside table drawer as quietly as he can manage to pull out a condom. Clarke reaches for him, hand stroking up and down his back as he rolls it on, unable to go another second without her hands on him. 

Bellamy is on top of her again a second later, kissing her as he rubs against her center, gathering wetness. With a gentle hand to his chest, Clarke pushes him a few inches away from her so he’s looking down at her. She can feel his heart pounding under her hand.

“I want you to have your way with me,” she whispers as her lips twist into a teasing smirk, echoing the same words she told him all those years ago during their first night together. Bellamy breaks into a wide smile that Clarke can’t help but mirror. 

“I love you, baby” he whispers, kissing her tenderly. 

His lips are still moving against hers when he pushes into her, causing Clarke to gasp, fingers pressing into his back muscles. Bellamy moves slowly, more gentle than usual. 

“You okay?” he murmurs, lips brushing hers as he speaks. Clarke nods, one hand moving to cup his face and pull him in for a chaste kiss. 

Bellamy’s forehead rests against hers, their breath intermingled and heavy as he fills her completely. It feels incredible - both physically, and in some other primal way Clarke doesn’t have a word for. Being this close to Bellamy, moving with him as one, feels as if it’s what she was made for. 

Bellamy’s thrusts are slow and even at first, letting her get used to the feel of him again. When he quickens his pace, Clarke’s eyes flutter closed as pleasure courses through her. Bellamy’s head drops to the crook of her neck, one hand trailing up her side as the other holds her thigh. 

“Clarke,” he groans quietly in her ear. It draws a shiver from her and she holds him even closer to her, whimpering when he thrusts into her harder. He lifts his head to look into her eyes again as he takes her hand, interlacing their fingers before pushing their joined hands into the mattress. 

“Fuck,” he pants.

“Bellamy,” she breathes, trying desperately not to moan as she clenches around him. “I’m so close.”

Bellamy’s free hand trails between their bodies, landing on her clit and rubbing circles over it at a pace that matches his thrusts. Clarke’s toes curl as the heat at her center uncoils and unfurls throughout her body. Mouth open in a gasp, Bellamy’s lips press hard against hers, swallowing her moans as she unravels. Bellamy doesn’t last another minute. Lips still pressed against his, she tastes his grunt as he tenses, hand squeezing hers as he lets go. 

The room is filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and pants, but most importantly, it isn’t filled with the sounds of their crying daughter. Bellamy’s forehead is still resting against her own, a thin layer of sweat between them. Clarke doesn’t mind - if anything, she just wants to sink even deeper into Bellamy, to melt into him completely.

“I love you,” he says, once he catches his breath.

“That was amazing,” she sighs happily, leaning up for a chaste kiss. 

“I’m impressed,” he smirks. “I don’t think you’ve ever managed to stay that quiet.”

“The stakes were high,” she giggles. Bellamy chuckles, shaking his head at her. When the laughter fades, his gaze sombers. 

“I love you too,” she tells him, her free hand stroking up his freckled back. “More than anything.”

Bellamy leans down to press a gentle kiss to her temple, and the gesture is so tender she nearly bursts into tears. Her damn hormones are still running wild. 

Bellamy pulls out of her after that, disposing of the condom. Clarke stretches out happily, not bothering to put her shirt back on or hide any part of herself from Bellamy. He watches her, a stupid grin on his face as he pulls his boxers back on. 

“Is she really still asleep?” Clarke whispers, as Bellamy walks over to the bassinet to check on Morgan.

Bellamy nods, brow raised, clearly as surprised as she is. 

“Let’s enjoy it while we can,” he chuckles, crawling back into bed beside her. He wraps her in his arms again, kissing the crown of her head. 

Clarke falls asleep more content than she’s felt in a long time. When she wakes a few hours later, it’s to the sound of her daughter’s cries. Still, she doesn’t mind. She can handle anything with Bellamy by her side.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always appreciated!
> 
> I matched this prompter's donation by donating to [Well-Read Black Girl](https://fundraising.fracturedatlas.org/well-read-black-girl).


End file.
